


i wrap you around all of my thoughts

by purpletulips



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, brief cameos from people who are friends w guni irl, but that's it i think... this is the most harmless fwb in the history of everything, foul language lol, will use the post-debut romanization aka ""keonhee"" due to PEER PRESSURE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpletulips/pseuds/purpletulips
Summary: In which Keonhee has a hard time figuring out the intersections between love and trust, even more when Yeo Hwanwoong is involved.
Relationships: Lee Keonhee/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 27
Kudos: 98





	i wrap you around all of my thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! two years, huh? i'm such a slowpoke when writing and joining college made my life so hectic, but now we're at quarantine and i don't know why i shouldn't serve 10k-ish 98line realness as it is my lawful right. this fic is mostly dedicated to a good friend who has been on my corner since forever! happy (late) birthday! (even though you don't like them) if it wasn't for your encouragement i probably wouldn't have finished this tbh i love you so much! [(go read her fics)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sessrumnir/pseuds/gunwoong)
> 
> songs that set off the moods of this, in different moments:
> 
> sweet dreams - beyonce (fic title!)  
> 1965 - zella day  
> sswfl - oh my girl  
> i know places - taylor swift  
> woohoo - christina aguilera  
> dressing room - after school  
> tiredness - gain  
> tiger eyes - ryu sujeong  
> put it straight - gidle
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

There’s no place for hope here.

Which is weird, completely absurd, because Keonhee’s life has been built on faith, on wishful thinking, on expecting things to be better as long as he works hard for them. He’s gone through enough hardships on his life to say if it wasn’t for his insistence on being ambitious, on following the light in the end of the tunnel, he wouldn’t be able to get out of his house.

Yet. 

He has found himself skeptical, wrapped around his best friend’s sheets and staring at his sleeping figure.

And you see, Hwanwoong isn’t perfect. He snores, and he sleeps sprawled across the bed, yet would grumble and complain when Keonhee wants to cuddle. His skin isn’t flawless, there are pimples peppered across his face from eating too much chocolate and stressing himself out. His hair is pointing to a thousand different directions and he had dyed it a golden shade of blonde six months ago but his roots are starting to show their dark brown nature as his hair grows. He looks neat enough as soon as he’s awake and alert, caring too much about his image and appearance to look shabby where other people can see. Early in the morning, though, he’s vulnerable and open.

That’s the maddening, torturous part — here, Hwanwoong seems Keonhee’s. And he’s made a solid point of proving he’s not, even if he trusts him with this.

It’s about trust, built upon layers of friendship and affinity and platonic affection. It’s about knowing Keonhee can see him when he’s his most earnest self and will do nothing about him except giving his most earnest self back. It’s about the years they’ve been together, struggling and suffering, celebrating and partying, being eachother’s rocks.

That’s what sets Keonhee apart from Hwanwoong’s other one night stands. Trust, companionship.

Nothing else.

Not love.

* * *

  
  


It starts happening when they’re both drunk and running away from a bad party Seoho dragged them to.

The music selection is boring, not exactly to their taste, and there are too many straight people in there, too many jocks and cheerleaders and sporty people and while they were interested in Performing Arts which demanded certain athletic prowess, it wasn’t to the extent of being interested in stuff like football. When a couple sitting next to them start making out savagely, they decide to flee the scene, not before stealing a bottle of rum and two of those fancy little cups. Seoho is Hwanwoong’s only roommate and he’s at the party, probably ravishing some poor freshman, so they decide to go back to his place and watch the stars from the rooftop and get drunk and talk bullshit.

Truth being told, Keonhee has always found Hwanwoong sort of attractive — it was the foundation of their dynamics, even, with Keonhee picking on him the more he actually wanted to fuck him senseless. It soon developed into an actual thing they did regardless of how Keonhee’s hormones decided to behave at the moment, because Hwanwoong had sharp wits and not a single ounce of fear of speaking his mind. He’s an amazing dancer, to make things worse, the best Keonhee has ever seen, and he knows his body in a way that only heightens his presence, even though he’s a midget. He takes over the room in a way borderline demonic.

On this particular night, his skin is glowing, smooth and creamy and glistening, the effect of his fleeting gazes painfully enhanced by the black eyeliner he chose to wear. The black shirt he decided on wearing is almost fully unbuttoned because he was feeling hot from the alcohol and his pants highlighted the perfect thickness of his legs. Keonhee felt breathless and cornered, yet he faked nonchalance because that’s what he does best.

After idly talking about everything and nothing, Hwanwoong starts staring at Keonhee wordlessly. He starts feeling self conscious about the worn out band T-shirt he’s put on for the occasion, not one to be particularly fashionable, and his denim shorts. His denim jacket is on the table and he wonders if he should get it back because he’s starting to feel a little chilly. He downs another shot of rum. They’re laying across the floor, only slightly touching.

“What?” Keonhee asks, lightheaded and tired.

Hwanwoong grabs one of his hands instead of answering, rubbing circles across his palm. They’re big on physical contact, but this feels more charged than any of their snuggling sessions during movies. Feels more charged than any of their interactions, really.

“Stop that,” he whines despite himself.

Hwanwoong raises his eyebrows. “Why?”

“It’s making me nervous.”

“ _Why_?”

“I don’t know,” Keonhee sputters, feeling his tongue heavy, his body heating up “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Hwanwoong’s eyes are dark, dark, dark. His lip twitches, the beginning of a treacherous smirk.

Keonhee bites his lower lip nervously, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “ _Stop_.”

To his credit, he does stop, because his hands are on Keonhee’s waist as they’re pressed flush against eachother and he closes his eyes before Hwanwoong kisses him, tasting of coconut and mint toothpaste and warmth. “Look at me,” he says, and giggles when Keonhee open his eyes “You look so pretty like this. So _red_.”

“Fuck you,” Keonhee mutters bitterly.

“I was planning on you doing that for me” Hwanwoong replies, as smooth and effortless as breathing, his lips red and bloated.

As inconvenient as he can be, Keonhee isn’t one to ruin anyone’s plans.

* * *

  
  


Their arrangement is decided quite simply, too, after lazy morning sex. They’re kissing as if time had stopped for them, as if they had nothing else to do, nothing else to see or feel. When they pull back, Keonhee’s lips are swollen and he notices he has a small purple hickey on his collarbone. 

He frowns reproachfully. Hwanwoong shrugs. “You had no complaints.”

“Are we gonna do this often?” Keonhee asks, doubtful “It never ends well in movies.”

Hwanwoong sighs. “I’d say it was a mistake, but I liked it. Been wanting to do that for a while. Didn’t act on it because I was scared of ruining our friendship and all but now that it happened, what can we do? A little friendship with benefits never hurt anybody.”

 _It had. It could_. Keonhee doesn’t say it, though. Instead, he deflects. “Every friendship with me is a friendship with benefits, bitch. I’m a very pleasant person.”

“What do you call the type of friends you have sex with, then?” Hwanwoong bats his lashes, voice dripping with fake sweetness.

Keonhee scoffs. “I call them fucking _lucky_.”

  
  


* * *

Of course, he knows it’s an unwise course of action.

As much as he likes pretending the world is his shell and he’s shaken by nothing, he’s actually pretty soft-hearted. He appreciates the concept of romance, of being wooed, of cheesy poems and holding hands and cuddling. Purely sexual relationships, although not unpleasant, aren’t his cup of tea. Back when he was a child, he used to trail after everyone who treated him with the slightest amount of kindness, like a lovesick puppy. Well into his adult years, he’s learned to be more picky with the objects of his affections. 

However.

“What’s the difference between a friend with benefits and a boyfriend,” Keonhee questions Youngjo, his housemate and close friend, as they have dinner together. He makes sure to will his tone into something casual, passing, as if asking about the weather.

Youngjo, Keonhee knows, doesn’t do casual relationships. Instead of fooling around with hookups, he’s perfectly content with staying at the house, taking care of his dog, making music, binge-watching Sherlock and ordering more chinese food than he should. When he falls in love, he gives his significant other his devoted, wholehearted attention until it inevitably ends in heartbreak. 

Yet, when Keonhee asks his question, Youngjo puts his glasses on the bridge of his nose and speaks like a true expert. “That’s a tricky question. A friend is someone you like spending time with, someone you care about, someone you trust to an extent. A friend with benefits is all of that, but also being attracted to the person and wanting to have sex with them. A boyfriend is… something a little deeper than that. You want to be serious about them. You want people to know they’re yours.”

Unbidden, Keonhee thinks of Hwanwoong waking up on his bed, bare faced and shirtless, telling him to fuck off and let him sleep. “That’s problematic.”

“It feels different for everyone,” Youngjo shrugs “But you’ll know when you want someone to be your boyfriend. There’s nothing set in stone, it depends on each person.”

“So there _is_ a difference,” Keonhee concludes, more to himself than to anyone else.

After they finish lunch, he further thinks about it while washing the dishes. He cherishes Hwanwoong as a friend, his closest friend, one who knows his deepest insecurities, his most embarrassing stories. They complete eachother, as cliché as it may sound, with Hwanwoong grounding Keonhee when he’s overwhelmed with mixed emotions, and Keonhee encouraging Hwanwoong to let loose and not obsess over things he cannot control. They’re better together.

And the sex isn’t bad either. In fact, it has progressed smoothly from _surprisingly good_ to _mind blowing_ , when they have the time and are in a willing mindset. They have this odd chemistry in which they’ve learned how to please one another really fast, and Hwanwoong is always loud, always turned on, never shy with his praises and reassurances, and Keonhee likes that. His previous lovers weren’t understanding of how clingy he is, assuming his touch starved nature meant he was getting too attached, or dependant on them, but there’s none of that with Hwanwoong. 

Being with him is easy because there’s no need to explain anything. He gets it.

He also is stupid hot, and being alone in a room with him without wanting to blow his brains out has been proving itself the hardest task in the world. 

But does Keonhee love him? Does Keonhee want to be with him, romantically?

He's growing attached, too fond of waking up Hwanwoong at the mornings, taking his sweet time with kissing him tenderly and drinking in the sight of him. Keonhee's a Cancer, noisy and fickle as he can be, and he likes domesticity. He doesn't mind Hwanwoong keeping his distance, though, nor does he care about the fact they're not exclusive. However, he's treading dangerous territory and he knows it.

The safe alternative is going back to how they were before. _KeonheeandHwanwoong_ , a platonic duo of chaotic demons, talented and foolish, with a penchant for drama and a love for performing. Inseparable, unstoppable. Very good friends who do not fuck.

But then Hwanwoong sends him a shirtless selfie and tells him _it's hot, i'm bored, come over_ , and safety seems overrated, not worth sacrificing this. What's life without risks?

He takes a shower, puts on a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants because there's no point in putting on overly complicated outfits knowing he's gonna take them off as soon as he steps into Hwanwoong (and Seoho)'s apartment. Keonhee grabs condoms, lube, snacks and a spare toothbrush just in case, and as soon as he walks out of the elevator Hwanwoong is waiting for him at the door, with heated eyes and short shorts hugging his thighs. A mouth watering view, really. 

Keonhee gulps down. "Seoho hyung?"

"He's going to a party," Hwanwoong runs his fingers through his hair, which is dyed a pinkish shade Keonhee is obsessed with. 

"He's _still here_?" Keonhee whines despite himself. They've decided not to tell people of their current arrangement so they wouldn't make a big deal out of it, but Seoho ended up finding them tangled together the first time they had hooked up, so he knows. 

However, he doesn't have to see them going at it, so Hwanwoong only calls Keonhee when Seoho isn't home, or when he's about to leave, or this one time in which Seoho was home studying for a midterm in the living room and Hwanwoong needed some, to quote his exact words, emotional support fucking.

Now, he pulls Keonhee closer and kisses him lightly. "Calm down, pretty boy, he's leaving in a minute."

He pouts. "I hate waiting."

"I know," Hwanwoong giggles, his hand still on Keonhee's neck, playing with his hair "You came faster than what I expected. Missing me much?"

Keonhee smiles without thinking. "I was thinking about you when you texted." 

Hwanwoong's face grows serious, searching. "What about me?"

Keonhee wonders if he should be truthful or make it sexual before realizing he could, in fact, do both. He brings a hand to cup Hwanwoong's cheek, feels the smooth of his skin, the small pimple under his eye, the tip of his chin. His lower lip, how full and pink and soft it is. "All of you."

Hwanwoong stares at him intensely, his eyes hooded, dark. "Fuck," he whispers, and takes a deep breath, and turns around "Hyung, where are you?"

"Bathroom!" Seoho answers, as cheerful as usual "I'm gonna brush my teeth then go, my ride's waiting for me downstairs! Y'all have fun!"

"Thanks, hyung, you're the best, have fun at your party!" Keonhee says as Hwanwoong pulls him to the bedroom. Whatever Seoho replies comes out muffled, since Hwanwoong has already locked the door and is kissing Keonhee, pressed flush against him, greedy and warm.

And if safety means not having this, then he’ll have to be a little reckless.

* * *

Keonhee doesn’t think he’s the type to get jealous. 

He likes giving his partners freedom, and firmly believes that just because you engaged in a relationship with someone it doesn’t mean they’ll stop finding other people attractive. Those are unrealistic, damaging expectations to put on anyone, and he wouldn’t impose them on his significant other; let alone a friend of his who hooks up with him for fun. It doesn’t even make sense.

With that being said, if Keonhee has to listen to one more word about how hot _Geonhakie hyung_ is, he might surrender to the appeal of first degree murder. He doesn’t think he’s mentally equipped to deal with prison, but he can adapt.

Geonhak is a recent addition to their friend group, he shares some classes with Youngjo but the actual reason they grew closer was because Seoho found him on a group chat for LoL players who attended their university and befriended him. He’s often at Hwanwoong’s place, and Keonhee is also often at Hwanwoong’s place, so Geonhak becomes quite a familiar face for both of them. He’s talented, funny, has a nice voice and an even nicer body. He’s also a kind person, to make it all worse. 

Keonhee cannot compete with that, even if he tried. So he doesn’t try and spare himself the humiliation — instead he seethes, sulks, listens to Youngjo composing sad music and goes to Hwanwoong when he asks, despite knowing he has another on his mind, because Keonhee doesn’t have an ounce of dignity left. He has no idea why he’s reacting like this: they’ve had this arrangement for a while and they never agreed on exclusivity. It was not even slightly brought to the table.

Keonhee hasn’t done more than flirting with anyone else lately, but that’s on him for being a loser.

“Hey? Hello?” Hwanwoong snaps his fingers in front of him “Earth to Keonhee? Did you listen to what I was saying?”

Keonhee stares at him with fake innocence. “Do I ever?”

“You’re an asshole,” Hwanwoong hits him on the shoulder with no strength at all “Here I was, opening my heart, only to be ignored. I’m wounded.”

Keonhee only partly exaggerates the long-suffering sigh he lets out. “Fine. What’s up with you?”

“I was asking you if you think Geonhak hyung is straight,” Hwanwoong asks, a little more somber and demure than before, and Keonhee feels his his heart drop to his feet, a free fall;

“I have no idea,” Keonhee manages to say and sound like he’s not on the verge of ripping his own hair off his head “But I don’t think he’d be an asshole about it if a guy approached him. I mean, he’s into performing arts, he dyed his hair, he’s a _gamer_ , he must be at least LGBT-friendly. Why? You’re into him?”

Hwanwoong scratches the back of his head and his cheeks color a warm shade of pink. “Maybe?”

His voice breaks a little, even. It’s honestly ridiculous.

Keonhee shrugs. “Well, go for it. The worst thing that could happen is him saying _sorry, dude, not interested_ ,” he tries to make an accurate Geonhak impression in the middle of his emotional turmoil, makes his voice deeper and puffs his chest.

“I guess,” Hwanwoong sighs. He stays in silence for a few seconds before turning his eyes to Keonhee again, suddenly uncertain “It’s okay if I pursue him, right?”

Keonhee doesn’t consider himself a good actor, or someone who’s particularly good at lying. However, he also knows that if he answers in an one hundred percent sincere fashion, he’ll make things harder for himself _and_ for Hwanwoong. Regardless of anything else, he wants his best friend to be happy, and if he’s catching feelings for their muscly friend, then be it. “I’m not your mom, Woongie. You can go after whoever you want.”

If his tone sounds more biting than playful, though, he refuses to acknowledge it.

Hwanwoong rolls his eyes. “Keonhee. Be serious, for once.”

Keonhee takes a deep breath and reminds himself, again, that he’s badly fit for jail and he still has a lot of things he wants to do with his life. Get his degree. Make a trip to Europe. “I am being serious. If you and Geonhak hyung wanted to fuck right on this table, I wouldn’t care. Unless you said I couldn’t watch it.”

“I don’t even know if the man would kiss me and you’re already thinking about threesomes?” Hwanwoong shrieks.

“How dare you suggest I think about anything other than threesomes,” Keonhee huffs indignantly and Hwanwoong throws his head back with laughter.

Keonhee smiles at him in what feels like a very automatic motion and Youngjo’s words flash inside his brain: _a boyfriend is something a little deeper than that_. Hwanwoong goes back to his phone, stretches on Keonhee’s bed with easy familiarity, painfully clueless. _You want to be serious about them_. He thinks of Geonhak, small face, muscular body, Hwanwoong clinging to him as he walks, or speaks, or does as much as breathe on his direction.

 _Oh_.

Such an awkward realization to have when the subject of your affections is sitting right in front of you.

  
  


* * *

Keonhee wants death. He wants to be steamrolled, thrown on fire and have his ashes spread around a Twice concert venue. The weight of life has never been heavier, and as Geonhak likes to remind him, he’s really skinny. 

Fucking _Geonhak_. If it wasn’t for him, Keonhee wouldn’t have felt obligated to confront his own feelings, wouldn't have realized his thing with Hwanwoong goes deeper than he thought — because he doesn’t want to name it, not yet. Names are powerful, and they can give shape to scarily intense feelings, so he’d rather squint at Geonhak’s Instagram pictures in hopes he’s straight, or in a relationship, or has a foul breath, for Hwanwoong to feel at least a quarter of the pain Keonhee’s feeling.

What? He’s a loving and nurturing Cancer, but he’s also a petty, dramatic Cancer. Dongju, his newly adopted freshman, tells him those two can coexist.

The following day he spends on what he calls his breakup routine: listening to IU songs and eating leftovers. They’re nearing the end of the semester and Keonhee’s already passed most of his classes, so he decides not to step foot in the campus while he’s on this state of mind. 

Youngjo gets home late and Keonhee’s already tucked into bed. He must sense something isn’t right or he simply is being his affectionate self, but he kisses Keonhee’s forehead and he wants to cry. He waits for his adorable, endearingly needy housemate to leave the room and cries quietly, cheek smushed against his pillow, thinking why can’t things ever work the way he wants them to work.

He wakes up on day two of seclusion and tries to be a little bit more functional. He puts makeup on so no one can notice his puffy eyes and goes to his morning classes, the one he absolutely cannot skip, jokes around with Junwoo, catches the bus home, cleans up the apartment, and hugs his Ryan pillow as he watches Gilmore Girls. He feels the urge of calling his mom and buying a bottle of wine, it’s all really intense. 

But he’s doing better and that’s what matters! Until, of course, his phone vibrates with a text from _the one who hasn’t gotten away yet but surely will as soon as he knows his best friend is crushing on him_.

**woongie** : hey, are you busy?

Oh, no. Keonhee’s stomach churns — it’s a booty call.

He can’t be sure, though, so he opts for an ambiguous response.

**guni** : not exactly

why? 

**woongie:** what’s that supposed to mean?

i saw you on campus today

are you not busy enough to come over? 

Yup, it’s a booty call.

Keonhee whines. He loves when Hwanwoong gets snippy, but he can’t do this right now. Something so fickle as a text is making his heart race, and he has to deal with that first, he has to decide what the fuck is this feeling, what the fuck is he supposed to do about it. 

**guni** : i’m sick :(

that’s what i meant

**woongie** : omg are you alright??

do you want ME to come over???

i can cook you stuff!! and take care of you!!

platonically.

Emotion bubbles inside Keonhee until he’s bawling right in front of Lorelai and Rory. His throat feels hot and his chest won’t stop burning. He has an immediate thought after he reads those texts, and it’s such a dangerous one.

**guni:** it’s alright, youngjo hyung’s helping me

don’t worry about it!!

Youngjo, who was not home at all, finds him sobbing into his poor plushie, and immediately embraces him without asking any questions. Keonhee can’t speak, can’t explain what’s happened, can’t do anything but get Youngjo’s designer jacket wet with tears. 

Because he’s in love with Yeo Hwanwoong, his very best friend in the world, and there’s no turning back.

  
  


* * *

He calms down after what feels like hours. Youngjo has made him hot chocolate and he drinks it while trying to explain everything from how the friends with benefits tomfoolery had started to Hwanwoong’s obsession with Geonhak and how it had made Keonhee feel something vicious. And now he’s panicking, because soon enough he’ll be deprived of not only probably the best friendship he’s ever built over the years but also from really good sex.

Cue more crying. 

His head is on Youngjo’s lap and he’s running his fingers through Keonhee’s hair while he watches more Gilmore Girls episodes without fully paying attention to what’s happening. “I told him I was sick, so don’t ruin my excuse and tell everyone that I’m sick and won’t go outside for the next five days.”

Youngjo snorts. “I won’t do that.”

“I’m not ready for any of this,” Keonhee sniffs “I don’t want to lose him, hyung. If I had known there was a real, solid possibility of losing him, I wouldn’t have started it. _Reciprocated_ , actually, because he’s the one who kept teasing me about it. Evil little bitch.”

“I don’t think losing him is a possibility here, love,” Youngjo says, so smooth and easy Keonhee wishes he was right “You two are joined by the hip ever since I've met you. I can’t see him leaving you because you like him.”

“I love him,” Keonhee lets out, and names are truly powerful because admitting this makes him so light yet terribly constricted “I’ve been loving him for so long, I think. Feelings don’t make sense and they really are a bit problematic because I want him, I want all of him. I— I want him to love me, too. I want it so bad.”

Youngjo stays silent and allows Keonhee to speak his mind freely. After pouring enough heartbreak for a lifetime on his housemate’s lap, he finally feels sleepy and drags himself to bed. He dreams of evil little bitches and warmth.

* * *

Keonhee spends an entire week pretending nothing is wrong. 

His fake sickness prevents Hwanwoong from getting in touch with him outside of texts, and he decides to not leave the house to make his lie consistent. Youngjo gives him looks of disappointment and worry but says nothing, and Keonhee is thankful for that. He cannot deal with judgement right now.

Of course, because his life is a nightmare, Kim Donghan bursts inside his apartment in a Saturday with no warning and a lot of judging under his belt. He’s wearing suspenders, heavy makeup and a has a look on his face that screams trouble. “You look like crap,” he beams at Keonhee, suspiciously bright.

“Thanks, sweetheart, you too,” Keonhee lies through his teeth, because they’ve been classmates for three years now and yet he has never seen Donghan look bad “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check up on you,” he says simply and if Keonhee needed confirmation his friend isn’t sober, this is it. Donghan isn’t one for demonstrations of kindness, even if implied, and their affection for eachother is an underlying, unspoken thing “Also I’m going clubbing and Donghyun, that asshole, said he couldn’t come with me. I was in the neighborhood so I thought of dropping by and asking you, in case you were feeling any better, to keep me company.”

Truth being told, Keonhee misses going out. He misses dancing, regardless of his clumsy limbs, and misses enjoying himself, and misses getting buzzed, and misses making out with Donghan at the end of the night when they’re both too tired to play cat and mouse. They haven’t done anything recently, because Keonhee was too busy giving Hwanwoong unrequited heart eyes and Donghan was too busy being Donghan, but maybe this is precisely what Keonhee needs to decide how far his feelings for Hwanwoong go. 

Also, he really needs alcohol to soothe his heart and soul. “Who’s paying?”

Donghan scoffs. “You are paying, smartass, but I can treat you to a drink or two if you go shower right about now.”

Keonhee does as he’s told. He doesn’t have the energy to get dolled up, but he does style his dark blonde hair prettily and wears his nicest pair of jeans, because he still wants to at least look functional. Donghan grins at him when he walks out of the room, which is enough approval, and calls for an Uber. It’s not too long after they’re at a club with music reverberating through the walls, flashing lights and God, so much grinding. 

“I think I’m gonna get some drinks,” Donghan says, all up on Keonhee’s personal space otherwise he wouldn’t be heard, and he smells great. Keonhee nods bemusedly and stands there, nodding his head to the music and ignoring this one girl in front of him giggling and throwing him giddy glances. She’s pretty so hopefully she’ll realize soon she’s barking at the wrong tree and move on. 

Donghan comes back with tall, colorful drinks that reek of alcohol but Keonhee doesn’t even have time to appreciate that before he spots a familiar face pinning someone against the wall.

 _Kim Geonhak_ , the reason for every single bad thing currently happening on Keonhee’s life, is kissing someone senseless and he’s so tall and broad Keonhee can’t really assume the person’s gender, so he represses the urge of texting Hwanwoong. He did want to know Geonhak’s sexuality, and Keonhee is a very useful friend, so he tells himself that’s why he’s curious. He gives his drink a large sip and puts his focus on something else.

Thankfully, Donghan is right there. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“So much,” Keonhee leans closer to him to answer that, because between the music blaring and the venue getting more and more crowded it’s hard to maintain a normal conversation “I’ll keep it simple: Hwanwoong is crushing on this guy, who’s making out with some other person behind you. Don’t look.”

“Oof,” Donghan lets out, eloquently, and keeps his eyes on Keonhee. It’s unsettling, but better than Geonhak finding out they’re here.

“Oof alright,” Keonhee sighs and finishes the rest of his drink, bracing himself for another revelation. He trust Donghan, and he can blame the alcohol if he regrets it tomorrow “Also, I’m in love with him.”

Donghan’s smirk is radiant and knowing even in the flickering lights. “Hwanwoongie?”

“Yeah,” Keonhee says, and his heart hammers to the heavy beat of some k-hiphop tune “Too obvious?”

“Yeah,” Donghan repeats, wraps his arms around Keonhee’s waist and pulls him even closer, probably to listen to him better. He’s warm, he smells like cologne and he must be sweating like crazy under his leather pants “Does he love you back?”

“I just told you he’s crushing on someone else, stupid,” Keonhee retorts, scrunching his nose, and then he gasps. Because at the corner of his eye, he catches Geonhak chatting and holding hands with whomever he was kissing, and their face is pretty visible. 

It’s Dongju.

“Holy fucking shit,” Keonhee whispers, blinking twice to check if his eyes are playing tricks on him. Not in the slightest — Dongju had dyed his hair an icy, almost silvery type of blue that everyone congratulated him on achieving, which means he’s easy to spot in large crowds. Keonhee turns to Donghan almost apologetically “Hey, um, I need to go talk to a friend, real quick. I’ll explain everything to you later.”

“You better,” Donghan pouts. He’s not ashamed of acting cute when he’s drunk, which is very entertaining, but Keonhee has somewhere to be. 

After dodging a bunch of inebriated dancers, he finds Geonhak and Dongju at the bar. Keonhee notices they’re still beaming at eachother, unaware of their chaotic surroundings, and his chest tightens. He doesn’t know if they’re dating, if they have casual hookup sessions or if they just met, but there’s something dangerous about looking at someone like they’re the only person in the room.

“ _Son Dongju_ ,” Keonhee breaks their spell, because he’s heartbroken and bitter “You two-faced bitch.”

Dongju lets out drunken, bubbly laughter. “Hey! You’re here!”

Keonhee squints his eyes at Geonhak, who is drinking Coke, perfectly sober as usual. “You’re not taking advantage of my kid, are you? I’ll kill you.”

“Don’t talk to my boyfriend like that!” Dongju puts his hands on his waist, trying to make a serious face but breaking into giggles after three seconds.

“You guys are dating?” Keonhee tilts his head to the side, surprised his guess was right. If he was in a serious, monogamous relationship, he’d be snuggling against his boyfriend on the couch while they watch cheesy dramas. He wouldn’t be making out with him in front of everyone, with music so loud you can’t hear your thoughts. He enjoys going out with groups of friends, that’s true, but he can think of things to do alone with your boyfriend that are much more interesting than clubbing.

“Geonhakie hyung isn’t out to his friends and family yet,” Dongju says, as if reading Keonhee’s thoughts “And I simply think my dating life is no one’s business! I did mention to you I was seeing a hot dancer I met at a party, though, because I trust you.”

Geonhak chuckles. “That’s not a lot of details, baby.”

“I’m happy for you two,” Keonhee smiles, and finds out he’s being sincere as soon as he says the words. He’s glad Dongju found someone after repeatedly stating how commitment was for boring, sappy chickens who were too scared of being alone. Glad he’s opened up his heart because he deserves pure, unadultered love, the brand of love Geonhak could give him. He’s ruined Keonhee’s life permanently, but he’s a nice guy “And I won’t tell anyone about what I saw today. Let’s hope I won’t remember it, too.”

“Take it easy with the drinking, hyung,” Dongju warns him, smirking. 

“Tell life to take it easy on _me_ , then we’ll talk,” Keonhee retorts, buys drinks for himself and Donghan and bids the couple goodbye, mind reeling.

He should tell Hwanwoong, right? Tell him Geonhak is in a secret relationship, and he shouldn’t go after him to not get his heart crushed. But Keonhee told Dongju he wouldn’t tell anyone, but if he told Hwanwoong to keep his mouth shut it wouldn’t be a problem, would it? Even though he would be outing Geonhak, in a way? 

He’s pulled out of his endless stream of thoughts by someone at the dance floor pulling him closer and he’s about to throw a fit when he recognizes Donghan’s smirking face in front of him. “Hey, pretty boy. You looked lost over there.”

Keonhee thinks of Hwanwoong immediately, of how he took to that same nickname, a perfect balance between teasing, flattering and insulting. Donghan is there, bright and palpable and uncomplicated, yet Keonhee’s stupid brain can’t focus on him, can’t focus on right now, can’t focus on anything but Hwanwoong. Anything but missing Hwanwoong. Missing his sharp tongue and his kind eyes and his soothing touches, his calm, reliable presence. Keonhee wants to run towards him with his open arms and his heart on his sleeve but he’s not wanted — and that is the one thing he has to remind himself, over and over again. Hwanwoong doesn’t want him, he’s just a stepping stone until he finds someone he actually likes and someone who’s gonna like him back, look at him like Geonhak looked at a drunk Dongju under strobe lights.

Keonhee shakes his head. Here, he’s wanted, so he’ll stay. “I was talking to a friend and his boyfriend. Sorry for taking too long. I have booze?”

“You’re forgiven,” Donghan takes his drink gratefully. They start talking, then, and it’s nice, because they haven’t been a constant part of eachother’s lives for a while and it’s reassuring to see things between them flow as naturally as they used to. 

Keonhee wishes he’d feel the strong pull of desire he used to towards Donghan, the driving force that led them to share memories of sloppy fucks at the end of the night, but he doesn’t. Instead, there’s a dull acknowledgement that he’s with his very attractive friend on a club, and they could go home together, but he doesn’t feel any type of way about it. It’s strange and so unlike Keonhee, who has strong opinions about everything and knows how to pinpoint what bothers him.

He’s not bothered. He’s not unbothered. He’s…

“A mess,” Donghan mutters.

Keonhee turns to him, eyes wide. Is he a mind reader, now? “What?”

“This music,” Donghan frowns and Keonhee notices the aforementioned music is a mashup between Old Town Road, Dalla Dalla and New Face. The DJ and a couple of clubbers who seem to be high as a kite seem to be the only ones enjoying the playlist, which makes Keonhee giggle into his empty cup. After a few more questionable choices, a sultry latin pop track starts playing.

Donghan grins at him, his eyes glinting with something dark, mischievous and awfully familiar. “Dance with me?”

Keonhee nods, already buzzed enough from his drinks to not be mindful of any stares. He’s clumsy, yes, and doesn’t know how to control his limbs as well as other people he knows — he stops himself before that particular thought gains shape and a name —, but there’s no set choreography for club dancing, specially when it’s past midnight and no one’s sober enough to judge him. He wraps his hands around Donghan, because he’s clingy and there’s not much space to move around, and they start swaying to the rhythm of the music. 

Keonhee, once again, drinks the sight in front of him. Donghan, his heavy liner, his graceful moves, his sly smirks, his charged looks, the undone buttons of his shirt. He’s willing, he usually is, but he won’t make the first move because Keonhee said he’s in love with his best friend. 

The music changes to a more upbeat, but still slurred and sexy song. Donghan spins around like a butterfly, managing to not bump into anyone. Keonhee wishes his insides would stir like they used to, his five senses lit up like a chandelier, because they don’t and he feels dim, disconcerted and scared, for reasons that aren’t here nor there. Scratch that. They are there — where he shouldn’t go, and where his heart wants him the most. He craves his familiarity, his other half, and he hasn’t seen him in so long, hasn’t felt him in so long. Dongju would’ve called him hopeless, a pining water sign running towards an unattainable goal, and he’d be right. 

Donghan stops spinning and stares at him, hands on his waist. “You wanna get out of here?”

The dawning weight of what’s about to happen settles on Keonhee’s chest neatly, without any frenzy, which isn’t ideal but he’s touch starved and heartbroken and in desperate need of a distraction, so he’ll have to deal with it. He’s about dip down and allow Donghan to kiss him until he forgets his name when his phone starts vibrating, ringing on his pocket. His heart skips a thousand beats when he reads the caller’s id and he picks it up right away, foolishly. “Hello?”

“Why won’t you answer your texts? Oh my God, where the fuck are you?” Hwanwoong asks, tone laced in shock and slight hostility, and God, Keonhee missed his voice so much he could melt on the spot.

“Long story,” Keonhee answers, too giddy for someone who’s about to get the scolding of a lifetime “I’ll answer you in a second, bye!” 

He turns off the phone and immediately reads a bunch of messages that start informative — Seoho hyung is out of town for the weekend to spend some time with his family and Hwanwoong is alone inside their flat, bored out of his mind — and end lewd, immediately sending heat simmering on Keonhee’s stomach. It’s the green light he’s been waiting for, the I want you he’s been begging to hear.

Donghan chuckles. “Duty calls? Or, wait for it, booty calls?”

Keonhee shrugs, helpless, unable to bite back a smile. “You’ll be alone here, though.”

“Go to him,” Donghan says, kindly “Donghyun texted me, too, said he’s actually coming. Don’t worry about me.”

Keonhee raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! The yearning is jumping out of you, it’s cramping my style,” Donghan scrunches his nose in fake disgust. 

Keonhee ignores the teasing and hugs him tight, as only a clingy Cancer as himself would master. “I’d die for you, really.”

“Then perish,” Donghan says jokingly but Keonhee plans on doing just that.

* * *

  
  


When Keonhee sees Hwanwoong at the door wearing only Keonhee’s green hoodie and boxers, he’s not surprised. Keonhee is very forgetful — it doesn’t sound unrealistic that, during one of the times he stayed over, he left some clothes behind and hadn’t bothered enough to come pick them up. 

However, it is heartwrenching. It fills him with the brand of hope he tries to avoid when it comes to Hwanwoong, the brand of hope that sets him up for failure, delusion, rejection, longing. He starts thinking it’s been months since they last hooked up on Hwanwoong’s flat, which means he had kept the hoodie for this long, and never said anything. A romantic, fluttery side of Keonhee enjoys thinking there’s a piece of him Hwanwoong wants to keep close, but he knows better. Keonhee knows what he signed up for: an arrangement based on practicality, on familiarity, on keeping your best friend’s clothes on your closet because you know he’s gonna come back and fuck you in one or two weeks.

But after two drinks it becomes so easy for things to become blurred, and Hwanwoong steps in front of him and wraps his arms around Keonhee’s neck as usual, standing on his tiptoes to reach him, and his kisses are warm and open and thorough and he smells like lemongrass and hot chocolate. It becomes easy to see practicality as choice, familiarity as comfort, as affection.

When they pull away, Hwanwoong is still staring at his lips, and visibly trying not to. “Sorry, I...”

“I know,” Keonhee smiles, goofy and unrestrained “Me too.”

“Let’s get inside,” Hwanwoong returns the smile “Then you’ll explain to me where the hell you were.”

As Keonhee makes himself comfortable in the living room, he realizes he has to tell Hwanwoong about Geonhak, the sooner the better. He also realizes he was wrong: he didn’t mean it when he said he wished Geonhak was in a relationship just so Hwanwoong would know how it feels like to be rejected. Keonhee would rather keep all the pain in the world to himself than genuinely want that to fall upon the person he’s in love with.

“Donghan dropped by my place out of nowhere and asked me if I wanted to club with him,” Keonhee starts explaining himself with the easier part “I said yes, because I was feeling better and wanted to see people. And, um, I saw Geonhak hyung.”

Hwanwoong frowns. “What’s that tone?”

Sometimes, Keonhee hates how his every emotion shows up on his face. He wonders, weakly, if he’s this obvious with his other feelings too. “He’s dating a friend of mine. It’s a guy, and apparently Geonhak hyung isn’t out for anyone yet so they’ve decided to keep it a secret. I don’t think I would have known if I hadn’t spotted them making out in a corner. I was supposed to not tell anyone, but I figured you should know in case you actually made a move. I can’t even tell you it looks like they’ll break up soon because it doesn’t. They look smitten with eachother and it’s disgusting and obvious. Sorry.”

“Oh, wow,” Hwanwoong frowns, not sounding distraught or angry, just surprised “At least he’s not straight.”

To say Keonhee’s taken aback by that is an understatement. “You’re not... Sad? Mad?”

“I’m a little disappointed,” Hwanwoong admits “But I realized these days I didn’t like him as much as I liked the idea of him, you know? He’s hot, nice and seemed unattainable. But it wasn’t that deep.”

Keonhee gulps down the airy, bubbly taste of hope and feels it tingle on his chest. "I'm glad, then. I wouldn't have known what to do if you started crying in front of me."

"Yes, you would, pretty boy. You're not the big baby you like people thinking you are," Hwanwoong flashes him a sly smirk, scooting closer, teasingly.

Keonhee looks at him, at his hair pushed back that's more strawberry blonde than pink by now, at the loosely fit hoodie, at his legs and his mismatched socks. He looks insanely pretty then, and something viciously possessive swirls inside Keonhee's stomach. He pulls Hwanwoong for a kiss, a burning, desperate thing that drags on. 

It would be one thing if, when they’re together, things felt one-sided, but they didn’t. Hwanwoong has an intense way of surrendering to his touches, of pressing his smaller frame against him, of asking, of begging without using his words, and now he does it fiercely, with the rush of a man starved. And Keonhee notices, right then, that their meetings feed into the feeble hope his feelings might be reciprocated, the possibility there’s something sizzling under their physical attraction, something bright and sparkling, waiting to come to surface. He pulls away, out of his daze, and Hwanwoong whines from under him, and his lips are puffy and half-open and his eyes are dark, and he’s everything Keonhee ever wanted jumbled.

He could confess, then. Pour out his emotions, be as dramatic as he’s known to be. If not a big romantic gesture, a spontaneous one. A burst of every colorful, throbbing thing he’s keeping inside his chest.

However, he’d rather die than risk ruining this moment.

“What’s wrong?” Hwanwoong asks, frowning.

Keonhee shakes his head, wills his overwhelming thoughts to stay away from his brain, stares at the couch. “It’s kinda uncomfortable here.”

“You had no complaints last time,” Hwanwoong points out, amused. Never annoyed. Well, never too annoyed. 

“I was sick,” Keonhee pouts, sits up and crosses his arms “Don’t be cheeky.”

“Cheeky? Me?” Hwanwoong lets out a fake offended gasp.

Keonhee glares at him, still sulking, and says nothing.

“You _are_ a big baby,” Hwanwoong’s face grows impossibly fond as he says that, his hands on his waist. Keonhee constantly worries about being too much, too loud, too overbearing, too annoying, but Hwanwoong accepts all parts of him and embraces them, even the less pleasant ones. 

What was Keonhee supposed to do, not fall for that?

Hwanwoong stands up, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Let’s go to bed?” he asks, softly, and Keonhee tries his best to not scramble to his feet like a lovesick idiot.

(He fails.)

* * *

Geonhak introduces Dongju to the rest of their friends, Hwanwoong included, on a windy Thursday. They wanted to have dinner together, and Geonhak asked if he could bring his significant other, which made Youngjo whine about being single and Seoho get excited, eager to embarrass his gaming partner at every opportunity. They gather on Keonhee's apartment, buy takeout and snacks and cook rice and watch silly reality shows.

Dongju charms everyone the same way he charmed Keonhee during his first week at uni, with his cute little face and his quick wit and his high-pitched laughter. Hwanwoong is good-natured as usual, treating Dongju with such playfulness you wouldn’t think he’s talking to his former crush’s boyfriend. Keonhee wishes he was able to detach himself from his own feelings like this, to put aside his personal issues for the greater good. The only reason why he hadn’t snapped at Geonhak back then was because he locked himself inside his apartment, sobbing on Youngjo’s surprisingly wide shoulders about how he’ll never find true love.

Speaking of the devil, he comes out of the kitchen with a bottle of Hennessy, fancy fucker that he is, and places it on top of the table, almost spilling the very delicious sauce Keonhee ordered to go with his fried chicken. “You guys, I have an idea.”

“Whatever it is, I’m down,” Hwanwoong says, beaming. 

“We should play Never Have I Ever,” Youngjo smirks, and Keonhee knows right away he’s planning something well-intentioned, mischievous and stupid. He’s too tired to fight it, though, and too sure Youngjo would never betray his trust. 

He’s distracted, so he doesn’t see Hwanwoong reaching for him with a napkin, cleaning a spot on the corner of his mouth with soft, focused motions. Keonhee tenses immediately. “Um, what are you doing?"

"I'm helping you not look like the peanut butter baby from Vine, that's what I'm doing," Hwanwoong huffs "Messy ass eater."

"Thank you," Keonhee says, softer than it would be sensible. He turns to Youngjo, desperate for a distraction "Alright, who's starting?"

"Wait," Dongju stands and heads for the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of sparkling cider and six cups "Geonhak doesn't drink."

"Aw, what a considerate little boyfriend," Keonhee coos, resulting on Dongju giving him the middle finger and Geonhak smacking him (lightly, because otherwise he'd break Keonhee's neck) across the head. Antagonizing happy couples is now part of his agenda, it seems. 

Youngjo shakes his head while pouring up their drinks. “Okay, who’s going first?”

“Can I go?” Seoho asks, beaming.

“No,” Geonhak deadpans, his face very serious. They share a look, as if sharing an internal joke, and Geonhak turns to his boyfriend in an unspoken request for help. Dongju smirks, wide and mischievous. Keonhee feels a little left out, except Youngjo and Hwanwoong look as lost as he is.

“Okay, I’ll go. Never have I ever had a crush on anyone on this table,” Seoho giggles, as if he hadn’t finished sealing Keonhee’s coffin, and looks directly at Geonhak and Dongju “Current significant other excluded.”

Hwanwoong downs his shot, obviously, and Keonhee tries to be discreet and takes a sip of his cup instead. Fortunately, no one has noticed it, instead they choose to focus on how Geonhak grabs his cup and drinks it, his eyes glued to his own feet. 

Youngjo gasps. Hwanwoong and Keonhee share a wide-eyed, confused stare. Seoho shrieks with laughter and Dongju hides his own grin behind his hands. Keonhee has absolutely no idea of who was it that Geonhak crushed on, but he could place his bets on Youngjo. If Seoho knows it’s not him, and Hwanwoong is usually accurate in assessing whether people are interested in him or not.

“Oh my God,” Hwanwoong exclaims, out of his stupor “Who was it, hyung?”

“ _I'm not telling you_ ,” Geonhak hisses, his ears beet red “Not telling any of you. It wasn’t even that deep…”

Dongju leans into him, holds one of his hands with two of his. “No one will make fun of you for it, you know. They’re just surprised because everyone always thinks you’re straight.”

“Well, I have made fun of you for it,” Seoho adds, unhelpfully “But that’s like, our thing.”

“Even so,” Geonhak crosses his arms, defensive “I’m not saying shit. That’s final. Who’s next?”

Dongju sighs, sounding defeated. His determination to embarrass his boyfriend, void of any visible signs of jealousy, is astounding. “I can go.”

The game goes on without any mentions of Geonhak’s former crush. They share embarrassing stories until around midnight and finish their bottle of Hennessy. Youngjo is the one who clocks out first, too drunk and too tired to keep socializing, and leaves the responsibility of being a good host on Keonhee’s hands. Hwanwoong helps him cook more food while the rest snuggled together at the couch, watching Celebrity Big Brother episodes.

They fool around at the kitchen, make out a little, almost burn their fried dumplings. Keonhee promised Youngjo he’d keep his hands to himself until he figured out what to do with his feelings, but he’s weak. He’s also tipsy, in love and stupid, so when Hwanwoong tiptoes to kiss his neck and asks if he could stay over, Keonhee agrees. 

Geonhak offers Seoho a ride home since his house isn’t too far away from Dongju’s. Keonhee brings them downstairs, wills his expression into something neutral when Hwanwoong tells Seoho he won’t be coming home today, tries not to laugh when Seoho wiggles his eyebrows at them.

“You know,” Hwanwoong says after they brought their friends downstairs, stepping inside the elevator “I think I figured out who Geonhakie hyung’s crush is.”

Keonhee blinks owlishly, his thought process slowed by the alcohol. “Who is it?”

“It was between you, me and Youngjo hyung. So I connected the dots,” Hwanwoong explains, looking like a particularly crazy conspiracy theorist "It couldn't be me, I'm sure. I practically threw myself on his lap and he couldn't have cared less."

Keonhee frowns at his keys as the memories from before invade his mind. He opens the door and they step inside, Keonhee sprawls himself across the couch with a remarkable lack of finesse and Hwanwoong laughs at him before doing the same. After years of practice, they don’t have to move around to snuggle, they just fit against eachother seamlessly. Keonhee blames it on habit, to keep his mental sanity.

“So,” Hwanwoong continues, oblivious “I thought of Youngjo hyung. They see eachother most frequently, have known eachother for longer. However, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Who in the world would have a crush on someone they’ve been casually friends with for so long and never make an attempt to get closer?”

Keonhee frowns. “This sounds like a very Geonhak hyung thing to do.”

Hwanwoong shakes his head. “Not for a harmless crush. Because that’s what he said. It wasn’t that deep. Also, the fact Dongju knows, too. Why would anyone bring up their harmless crush to your boyfriend who you started dating recently? Who doesn’t even know him?”

“So what, do you think it’s me?” Keonhee asks, nervous laughing at the mere possibility. He had been acting so distant and snippy towards Geonhak ever since he found out Hwanwoong had a crush on him, their interactions were mostly either bickering or vague, never getting too personal or deep. He had not, by any means, acted in a crush-worthy way. 

When he sees Hwanwoong wearing his characteristic _Are you stupid?_ expression, though, Keonhee knows it might not be a farfetched guess. “No way. I’m not even his type.”

“You’re everyone’s type,” Hwanwoong argues, dismissive, and the way he says it as if it’s an undeniable fact, makes Keonhee dizzy in a way that has little to do with alcohol.

“Not yours,” he says, makes it sound playful instead of wounded. It’s way easier to pretend when he’s sober and his fingers aren’t carding through the hair of the man he’s been in love with for longer than he ever imagined, but well. He thinks he pulls it off.

“Specially mine,” Hwanwoong replies, turning around to face him, warmth radiating from his body and his eyes sparkling with a mischievous type of honesty “Or did you think I was staying over to eat your bad food?”

Keonhee fakes an offended gasp, is about to deliver a very smart comeback when Hwanwoong kisses him quiet. He lets himself be rendered speechless throughout the night.

* * *

  
  


Mornings are always bad, but this one is exceptionally awful.

Keonhee wakes up to the sound of someone entering his bedroom, rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, feels his throat dry when he swallows. Him and Hwanwoong are wrapped over eachother in a sweaty mess of limbs, Youngjo is standing at the doorstep with a glass of water on his hands, disappointment seeping from his pores. Keonhee makes grabby hands for it.

Youngjo shakes his head as he hands him the glass. “You have no sense of self-preservation.”

“Good morning to you too,” Keonhee pouts, sends an alarmed glance at Hwanwoong. Thankfully, he’s still dead asleep, arms loosely wrapped around Keonhee’s waist. He’s used to the longing making his heart feel too big for his ribcage, used to shoving down any thoughts about their casual intimacy, but the scorching hot weather and his throbbing headache set his existential dread _on fire_. 

Youngjo’s expression softens, his eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry for meddling. I just don’t like seeing you spinning around in circles like this.”

“Do you think I like it?” Keonhee sighs, not ready for this conversation. His phone tells him it’s seven in the morning, too, which is way too early for heartbreak “Thanks for the water, hyung. Don’t worry about me too much, you’ll get wrinkles. I’m a lost cause.”

“Alright,” Youngjo shrugs, still looking bothered but knowing when to drop it “Can I use your face serum? You got mad last time I didn’t ask.”

“Because you’re a rich bastard who could easily buy another one for yourself,” Keonhee huffs and his voice must’ve gotten too loud because Hwanwoong whines on his sleep, stirs a little, moving closer.

The sound has an embarrassing effect on Keonhee, as most things Hwanwoong do, and he really wants Youngjo to _leave_. “You know what? I’m feeling really kind today. Use my serum, as long as you buy my next one.”

“Okay, thank you so much! Sleep well!” Youngjo beams at him, clueless, and finally closes the door.

Unfortunately, his damage control doesn’t prevent Hwanwoong from waking up. His hair is pointing to every direction, his eyes drowsy from lack of sleep. “What time is it?” he mumbles and it’s _adorable_.

“Still early,” Keonhee says, for once not caring about the softness seeping through his voice, his heart skipping a couple beats “Let’s go back to sleep.”

Hwanwoong squints at him. “Why were you so loud this early in the morning, though?”

“I’m always loud,” Keonhee replies dismissively.

Hwanwoong raises his eyebrows, coyness dancing on his eyes. “Yes, you are.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Keonhee snaps, his cheeks growing hotter as uncomfortable scenes from last night flash inside his head. 

Hwanwoong grins. “Do you think Youngjo hyung heard it?”

“Why? Is that your thing?” Keonhee teases back “Exhibitionism?”

“I did send you my BDSM test,” Hwanwoong says in lieu of an answer. It’s concerning that their conversation is going to this route with Youngjo wide awake and wandering around the apartment. 

Keonhee really needs to find him a girlfriend. 

“Youngjo hyung is straight, Hwanwoong,” he stifles a yawn before continuing “You’ll have to find somebody else to show off to.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Hwanwoong answers "Can I ask you a question before you go back to sleep?"

"Spill," Keonhee relaxes into his pillow. 

Hwanwoong sits up, and he’s staring at his hands when he speaks up. “You drank yesterday. When Seoho hyung asked about the crush thing.”

Keonhee feels his heart stop. His whole body stiffens and he's very thankful he's lying down otherwise it would've been very obvious.

He hadn't thought anyone, let alone Hwanwoong, would have noticed that. In other moments lying would’ve came easily, Keonhee never had a hard time with downplaying and concealing his own feelings so no one would be uncomfortable or burdened, but he has let his guard down today, relaxed with the promise of an easy morning together, no questions, no prodding.

He tries to play it dumb. "Did I? I don't really remember. Maybe I just felt like drinking."

Hwanwoong gives him a deadpan, skeptical stare. “Really?”

“Really,” Keonhee confirms but he has no idea if he’s doing a good job of sounding convincing. 

Hwanwoong snorts but it doesn’t seem exasperatedly fond, as usual; he looks frustrated, sad. “You make my life so difficult sometimes.”

What’s ridiculous is that Keonhee knows how Hwanwoong means it — how he grows distant, how he has a hard time opening up when he’s upset, how he’s been particularly weird ever since the groundbreaking realization he has recently came to, how easy it is for him to pretend he’s fine and act like everyone else is crazy when they seem to catch onto it. And Hwanwoong’s been on the receiving end of that so often, because they’ve been together the longest and are closer than anyone. He gets to say what he’s saying.

Keonhee doesn’t know why he feels so wounded by it, though. “Sometimes? Not all the time?”

“Just sometimes,” Hwanwoong’s stare is intense, burning, heavy enough for him to notice this isn’t their usual back and forth “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Are you sure?” Keonhee averts his eyes, tries to steer the conversation to a comfortable area “I’ve been told I give really good head.”

Hwanwoong rolls his eyes. “Are you ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

Keonhee sighs, the weight on his chest dragging his mood down. He can’t run away from the truth forever, can he? And he doesn’t seem to be strong enough to push Hwanwoong away and stop whatever they’re doing. Keonhee had happily complied to receiving whatever Hwanwoong was willing to give him without realizing that made him feel pain, too.

He should just do it, right? Rip off the band-aid, whatever.

“If I tell you,” Keonhee starts, all too conscious of the tremble on his voice “You have to promise you won’t stop talking to me.”

“Is it really serious?” Hwanwoong asks, softer.

Keonhee can’t bear to look at him, wrapped on his sheets, his brows furrowed in concern, so he nods while staring at the wall. “It could change everything. It could ruin everything.”

“It won’t,” Hwanwoong says, firm “Not with me. I promise.”

For some reason, that’s what does it. It’s because it’s coming from him, who is not delusional about friendships, who is painfully aware of the fact people come and go, who says blind trust is dangerous, that it’s not healthy or smart to place all your bets on someone. Because it’s Hwanwoong and his promises are overwhelmingly meaningful, filled with the type of devotion he refuses to give away.

Keonhee lets go. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers and it fills the room. His heart hammers against his ribcage desperate and deafening, his eyes glued to the ceiling. He hadn’t noticed he was crying until Hwanwoong reaches to dry his tears with his fingers and his hands are so warm it only makes Keonhee want to cry harder.

He doesn’t, though. Instead, he risks a glance, because he wants, he _needs_ _,_ an answer, anything that’s not suffocating silence and pity comfort. “Say something.”

Hwanwoong looks puzzled, shocked and pained, all at once. “I don’t know what to say. That wasn’t what I expected to hear.”

Keonhee scoffs. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know!” Hwanwoong runs his hands through his hair, through his black roots and the fading blonde, and takes a deep breath “I don’t know how I feel, either.”

Keonhee doesn’t have anything to say to that. His confession wasn’t much of a confession as it was him answering a question, but he doesn’t have the heart to clarify that either, because it would be dismissive of his own feelings, feelings that come crashing inside him as untamed as the sea. If he’s gonna be honest, then he’ll be honest — no hiding, no playing it cool, no minimizing.

“Don’t be scared of rejecting me,” Keonhee says, a little breathless “Being led on by my best friend would completely fuck up my reputation.”

“What reputation,” Hwanwoong snaps, mostly out of habit “If I was sure of anything I’d tell you, Keonhee. But I’m not.”

Keonhee snorts, finding he feels lighter now. It’s weird because it doesn’t hurt less, the heartache still ringing persistently through his chest, but it’s soothing to no longer carry the weight of a secret. He’s very good at hiding things, he knows, but not from Hwanwoong.

“I won’t wait for you,” Keonhee lies. Or not — he doesn’t _want_ to wait for him, doesn’t want to hold onto that attachment, but he probably will.

Hwanwoong gives him a sad, clueless smile. “I know.”

* * *

  
  
  


Keonhee only tells two people about his little conundrum.

He tells Youngjo, because they live in the same place and he can be very nosy when it comes to his friends' romantic lives, despite not wanting his own to be tampered with. Also, the poor man has been the main victim of Keonhee's love woes, having his expensive jackets wet with tears countless times yet being unbearably kind about the whole situation. Youngjo praises him for his bravery, gets misty eyed himself and once again orders an unhealthy amount of Chinese food. They still eat the fuck out of it, though.

Keonhee also tells Junwoo, his friend from university who had been the only person to know about his midget-shaped secret. Junwoo isn't the best person to offer the gentle brand of advice one would need in times of heartbreak. He deals with his own feelings by pretending they don't exist and watching videos of puppies tripping on uneven sidewalks, he's not well-equipped to deal with other people's emotions too. He is comforting enough, with his unwavering, enthusiastic support and his Tumblr shitposts.

Junwoo and Youngjo are, in essence and otherwise, people with very different mindsets and lifestyles. Youngjo calls an Uber to go everywhere, spends absurd amounts of money on brand clothing yet says skincare is too expensive and steals Keonhee’s products. Junwoo thinks there’s nowhere public transportation can’t take him, works for minimum wage at a convenience store and spends his entire paycheck on real sized pricey plushies for “emotional support”. Youngjo is affectionate, softhearted, offers you cuddles when you’re sad. Junwoo is witty, unhinged and offers you baby animal pictures when you’re sad. Keonhee expects two entirely different advices from the two of them.

However, he doesn’t get it. Youngjo and Junwoo tell him to give Hwanwoong his space and try to distract himself with other things.

Keonhee does that. He’s not what you would consider a mentally stable person by any means, but he has never been so prone to sudden bursts of tears ever on his life. Not even during high school. It would’ve been so much easier if he had an upfront answer, then he wouldn’t have severe mood swings between thinking maybe he still has a chance and berating himself for being delusional. Hope and desolation, walking hand in hand on the wide path of his heart.

While Hwanwoong, in typical Hwanwoong fashion, disappears for a week.

Even when Keonhee had his fake sickness and wouldn’t leave the house for the life of him, he had contacted his best friend over text, because they hadn’t spent much time without talking to eachother ever since they first met. It doesn’t mean they chat all the time, but they see things that remind them of the other and immediately head to KakaoTalk to share links. It’s a comfortable, natural pace for them, and one that has been broken ruthlessly.

And listen, even though it doesn’t look like it due to his steady stream of bad life choices, Keonhee is a smart guy. He has seen Hwanwoong doing this with a bunch of people — ghosting them and hoping they’ll forget him over time so he doesn’t have to straight up dump them, then realizing it won’t work and giving them the boot. He’s not Lee Seoho, painfully unaware of what he’s feeling most of the time, or Keonhee, who represses and denies until his last breath.

No, Hwanwoong knows himself better than anyone. He wouldn’t have taken an entire week to figure out his feelings. He’s just gathering enough courage to reject his closest friend.

Keonhee has made his peace with that. Okay, he hasn’t, and he has been having existential crisis about that from time to time — but he will, as soon as Hwanwoong gets the nerve to dump him once and for all. Keonhee has faced worse things than unrequited love and he has gotten over them all, and this won’t be different.

Until it’s three in the morning and he scrambles to pick up a missing call from Hwanwoong, heartbeats so fast it hurts. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Hwanwoong greets him, sounding dazed, out of breath, maybe drunk “Tell me about something.”

“What’s wrong?” Keonhee asks, because that, too, is familiar. Hwanwoong usually tells Keonhee to distract him when he’s sad, to talk about his life or whatever he wants to talk about extensively, but never this late, and never after seven days of radio silence.

Hwanwoong sighs deeply. “Keonhee, please. I need it.”

He can’t say no to that, so he talks.

He starts with his heated complaints about Gilmore Girls, specially the way Lane’s arc ended. He also complains about how Youngjo bought a new serum but has been using Keonhee’s essence haphazardly, and it’s not like he doesn’t have the money to buy his own stuff, it’s just that he wastes his monthly allowance with stupidly overpriced clothing. Keonhee doesn’t care much about fashion, it’s true, but he also believes skincare is more important than whatever he wears. It’s a very soothing process for him to apply his cleansing oils, his toners, his serums and essences, and don’t forget the eye masks! Hwanwoong asks about his daily routine and Keonhee explains it to him step by step, talks about the impacts of choosing the right products for his type of skin.

When he finishes, his voice is rough from too much use. He can’t come up with more harmless conversation topics and he’s too sleepy to be creative. “Tell me what’s wrong now?” he has no idea why he sounds so soft, why it comes out as a question instead of a demand. He should be angry, to be awake in the middle of the night giving the time of the day for someone who had, essentially, ghosted him.

“Now that seems like a familiar question,” Hwanwoong replies, annoyingly. He doesn’t sound as tense as he had when he first called, which is a good sign. 

Keonhee scoffs. “I did tell you what was wrong, though, and it’s almost four in the morning. Don’t be cheeky. Spill.”

“I was scared and confused about a lot of things,” Hwanwoong says and it’s the easy, almost dismissive way he says it that confirms he’s drunk — he’s not very comfortable admitting to weaknesses while sober “And talking to you gives me clarity, I guess. So I called.”

Keonhee swallows whatever shred of hope that might bloom inside him with this. They’re friends. They’re supposed to feel safe with eachother. “Are you home?”

Silence. “Oh, I forgot you couldn’t see me so I nodded,” Hwanwoong laughs “Yes, I am. Don’t worry.”

“Impossible,” Keonhee deadpans “You’ve been the main reason for my migraines these days.”

“I thought you loved me,” Hwanwoong says, light and playful. It’s easy to hear the pout on his voice, too.

Keonhee still feels a little pang on his chest — nothing painful, but a tight reminder of the fact he knows, and has chosen to do nothing about it yet. “I can love you and think you’re a pain in the ass. Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“I love you too,” Hwanwoong breathes out, not louder than a whisper “I don’t know to what extent that is, though, and, like, you were so sure. When you told me. I don’t wanna come to you uncertain. But sorry for disappearing, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay,” Keonhee says, because it’s all he can’t manage to do without crying “All is forgiven if you let me sleep. I’m tired.”

Hwanwoong chuckles, airy and cute and highly inebriated. “Yeah, sure. Good night, pretty boy.”

Keonhee ends the call with a sigh. Hope blooms on his chest, an overwhelming amount of it, and he wishes not for the first time, to grow out of yearning.

* * *

**woongie:** are you going to changmin’s party?

Changmin is their mutual friend, a Dance major whose birthday is in three days. He’s not what you could call an extrovert, but he wants to celebrate finally being able to move out of his parents’ house. He’s nice, has a cute dimple and his quirkiness reminds Keonhee of Junwoo, so he’s highly inclined to go. Also, he’s been at home with Youngjo for too long and, while he’s an amazing friend, he’s not so reasonable as a roommate. Specially without college to occupy them. 

**guni** : yup!!

are you??

**woongie** : yeah!

i’ll see you there then!

Keonhee blinks at the phone screen, puzzled. Usually they’d get ready together, warm themselves up before the party and sing loudly to whatever playing on the radio to the dismay of their poor Uber driver. He almost asks if they couldn’t do it this time around too, but Junwoo texts him a picture of a cat with “NO” written on its’ eyes and Youngjo frowns in slight exasperation and says “Give him time, love”. 

Keonhee lets it go, then. He can go on his own — and if he goes the extra mile to make sure he looks as pretty and eyecatching as possible, that’s between him and God. He chooses a purple silk shirt, dyes his hair black and facetimes Dongju for makeup tips. He wears his favorite pair of jeans, snug enough to make him slap his own ass while looking at the mirror yet loose enough to be comfortable. It’s practical, too, easy to take off, which will be useful when he needs to pee or when he gets laid.

He’s having a hard time wanting to fuck anyone other than Hwanwoong, but he’s gonna think positive. He _will_ get over himself and find a man on Ji Changmin’s backyard.

Keonhee’s gift is a Chucky keychain and an Annabelle Blu-Ray DVD. He’s proud of his choice, feels confident about his looks and knows a lot of people at this party, so he doesn’t know why he feels building anxiety at the prospect of making his presence known. Hwanwoong is nowhere in sight.

“Ah, you came!” Changmin runs to hug him, his smaller frame barreling against Keonhee’s chest unabashedly “Oh, wow, you look good! You smell good, too!”

“Don’t smell your guests,” Keonhee chides, smiling at the other’s infectious energy “What is your future boyfriend going to say?”

Changmin grins at the mention of the freshman he’s smitten with. Keonhee doesn’t remember his name but he’s Dongju’s classmate and Changmin has been hitting on him ever since the first day of frosh week. He has yet to know if he’s straight or simply oblivious. “We’ll have a polyamorous relationship. He’s an Aries, it’ll work out.”

Keonhee giggles. “Happy birthday, dork. Is there any food in here?”

“Me and Chanhee tried to make tteokbokkis but we ruined it,” Changmin shudders at the memory “But Kevin, bless his soul, bought snacks, and they’re right there at the table. Drinks on the cooler. If you need anything, let me know? I think Younghoon hyung got lost on his way here again.”

“Sure, have fun,” Keonhee says, staring as Changmin runs to the front door. His friends are so chaotic it makes Keonhee’s own clique look distinguished.

And speaking of his own clique…

He opens KakaoTalk, texts Hwanwoong a simple _where are you?_ , answers to Youngjo’s question about where did he put the cookie dough and puts his phone inside his pockets, ignores the little voice inside his head calling him pushy.

Changmin’s party is set up quite simply — there’s a table with loads of snacks and a layered chocolate cake, a big cooler packed full with beer and a makeshift dance floor. Kevin is playing DJ, once in a while taking the mic to ask the guests for song requests. Most people are on their feet, dancing to an upbeat pop selection consisting on Dua Lipa’s new album and Chungha’s recent titles, but there are a couple of tables with chairs scattered across the backyard. Chanhee is sitting in one, Changmin’s freshman crush by his side, and they tell Keonhee to go sit with them. 

He finds out the freshman is named Sunwoo, who has dark red hair and a biting sense of humour. Chanhee is nursing a bottle of soju while they talk, saying he’s too sophisticated for beer, while Sunwoo argues it’s because his taste buds are childish as hell. At first, Keonhee mostly observes their bickering, thinking about his unanswered message and his own heartbreak misery, but as time passes he starts engaging with the conversation. Chanhee and him have a lot in common, from their taste in music to the way they view the world, and Sunwoo is funny and nice. He barely sees time passing until he notices the darkened sky, and realizes, with a tinge of worry and hurt, that Hwanwoong is still not there. He shakes off that train of thought quickly, though, not wanting to get sadder in the middle of a party.

Keonhee is sitting on his chair, lips on Chanhee’s plastic cup, when Changmin rushes into the makeshift DJ booth and whispers something on Kevin’s ear. He nods. “Hello, everyone! Hope y’all are having a good time! One of our guests has a very important announcement to make, so we’ll stop the music for a while to give him the mic, yeah?”

Keonhee asks Sunwoo and Chanhee who is it, but they shrug at the same time and Changmin is too far to answer the question. Keonhee furrows his eyebrows, too curious from his own good.

Hwanwoong comes out of Changmin’s house, dressed with a dark green t-shirt tucked inside his black pants, his hair back to its original dark brown color. 

Keonhee promptly chokes on his soju cup. _What the fuck?_

“Sorry, you guys, I’ll try to be quick,” Hwanwoong says, smiling his PR smile, all friendly and agreeable and nervous “Lee Keonhee, pay attention. I’m not embarrassing myself in public like this again.”

His eyes are so wide he thinks they might fall off his sockets. He thinks he hears Sunwoo sputtering by his side, but Keonhee can’t process anything but the wild beating of his own heart and Hwanwoong’s voice bouncing inside his skull.

Hwanwoong keeps talking, his eyes burning with tenderness, oblivious to Keonhee’s meltdown. “Once, we were talking about romance and big gestures. I told you I liked them, even though they were risky and could end in so much embarrassment. You told me you’d rather have small, intimate demonstrations of love, and we left at that. But I’ve learned to appreciate small gestures, because I liked yours so much, and I can see how much they mean. I hope you’ll be able to appreciate this big gesture, too, because nothing smaller I could think about would come close to what you deserve. So.”

When Keonhee confessed, back inside his room, hurt and scared, he couldn’t bring himself to look at anything but the walls, waiting for them to close in on him and swallow him whole. Now, he can’t look away from Hwanwoong, clutching at Kevin’s wireless mic but standing with the determination of a man who has something to say. “You’re the person I cherish the most in the world, probably. I think I never had someone able to read me as fast as you do, and I wanted to grow old with you. Those are things I value a lot, things I was scared I could lose if I ever admitted to having feelings for you. Because you know me, I’m a mess at relationships, and taking a step further would mean risking all that we had. I was okay with what we had, didn’t want to ask for more. Until you did it for me.”

Someone sniffles loudly. Keonhee tunes that out, tunes out the surprised sounds coming out of Sunwoo’s mouth, tunes out Changmin’s screech as Hwanwoong walks closer to their table. Closer to him.

“I realized that I missed you badly. I missed you when I shut you off, I missed hearing your laugh and playing around with you and making meaningless gossip about our acquaintances. I missed you not taking me seriously, your jokes, the way you’d jump out of your chair at the slightest sound. I missed you so much I had to ask Seoho hyung to take my phone when I was bored because my first instinct is always talking to you, and I wanna listen to your opinion about everything. I missed everything about you, about being with you, being held by you. I’m always most comfortable in your arms. I could go on but I don’t wanna embarrass you in front of this many people, and Changmin’s gonna make fun of me later, so I’ll just ask a question instead.”

Keonhee feels his eyes stinging, his cheeks getting wet. He’s so tired of crying but for once, those aren’t tears of sadness — he’s happier than he remembers being in months. He’s grinning and his heart soaring so high it could touch mountains and he’s not ashamed of wanting. 

Hwanwoong kneels, extra and dramatic and ridiculous and wonderful, and unwraps a lollipop ring. “Would you give me the honor of dating you? Being your official soulmate, once and for all?”

“Get _up_ ,” Keonhee hisses, wiping his face with the back of his hands. Hwanwoong scrambles to stand straight and Chanhee snorts. 

Keonhee loves him then, so much it physically pains him, drags the air out of his lungs. He wants to reach out and kiss him numb. However, he deserves to be a bitch. “Asshole, made me ruin my makeup. I was hoping to go home with someone tonight, you know?” he says, except he can’t stop smirking like the cat who got the mouse, so his anger isn’t convincing in the slightest. Hwanwoong’s pupils still shake, ever so slightly, because everyone is looking at them, and the air around them is heavy with anticipation.

Keonhee takes pity on him. He grabs his lollipop ring and puts it on his hand. “It’s not a diamond, but it’ll have to do.”

“Is this a yes?” Hwanwoong asks, eager and misty eyed, not daring to smile.

Keonhee grins as wide as the sea. “Of course it’s a yes, baby.”

Everyone cheers. Confetti flies to his face for some unknown reason. He looks to the side and sees Younghoon blowing his nose on a tissue and Changmin pats his back comfortingly. Kevin is playing Rain on Me on the speakers.

However, beyond anything else, Keonhee feels Hwanwoong on his arms, warm and soft and shaking, and thinks he’ll die on wanting, but not alone. Not anymore.

* * *

  
  


(They don’t go home, that night. They snuggle on one of Changmin’s guest rooms, Hwanwoong tells him about how Changmin, Kevin, Chanhee and Younghoon were in on the plan but Sunwoo had to be kept out of it because he can’t lie. Changmin gladly gave him the platform, Kevin and Younghoon helped him get ready, Chanhee provided the distraction. Keonhee is sure joy must be pouring out of him, thinking of how much of an elaborate proposal that was, and he thinks he appreciates big gestures now, too.

They schedule a reunion with their friends the next day, saying it’s urgent. They’re obnoxious oversharers, specially with people they trust, and it will become even more evident now that they’re boyfriends.

Hwanwoong is on Keonhee’s lap when he tells the story to everyone. Seoho giggles the whole time, says he called it, makes fun of Keonhee’s lollipop ring. Youngjo congratulates them sincerely, says he always rooted for them, comes up with an ugly combo of their names they’ll never use on their lives. Geonhak is too shocked to utter rational sentences. Dongju, in typical Dongju fashion, asks who bottoms and who tops, and cackles when Hwanwoong’s face falls.

Between the weight of his boyfriend on him and the sound of laughter from his favorite people, Keonhee feels more at home than he ever felt.)

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> you have reached the end of this big boy! i'm not satisfied with it, i think because i took too long to finish it the pacing could be weird but it was written during a time where i was, myself, struggling with matters of liking someone and making myself vulnerable without meaning to. so the characterization might be off, as well. i didn't HATE it though, so i hope you don't either! also i cannot, for the life of me, call gunhee ""keonhee"" so i used find and replace throughout the fic to help me with that sorry. i edited this myself so grammatical mistakes can and WILL happen lmao esp considering english isn't my first language and i'm stupid! if you feel like it leave a comment if you like this i kinda love validation
> 
> ANYWAYS STAN THE BOYZ!!! weki meki and nature's new songs are fire so get onto that too!! and follow my dumbass on twt (@/0309line) if you wanna see endless wips, complaining and 98line loving


End file.
